


Figured You Out

by Foophile



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Stimulation, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 12:12:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5967025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foophile/pseuds/Foophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam was more aware of his brother than he’d ever been in life and he was getting hard.</p><p>Originally written in 2008 for Round Five of Rounds of Kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Figured You Out

Originally, it was a complete accident.

There was a busy gas station where both Sam and Dean insisted on going inside and were bottlenecked at the counter, where seemingly everyone in the county wanted to try the new flavor of Juicy Fruit gum. Sam was clutching his gallon of iced tea, two boxes of Kashi granola cereal that he loved to eat out of the box under his arm, and staring at the sugarless gum wandering if he’d be able to chew a stick before Dean attempted to stuff the rest of the pack into his black hole of a mouth.

“Here, hold this,” Dean ordered, shoving a six pack of beer into Sam’s chest as he sauntered up from the back of the mart. Sam barely caught it before it crashed to the floor.

“What the hell, Dean,” Sam whined. He accidentally backed into the person behind him and stammered an apology.

Dean ignored his brother, tucked another pack of beer under his arm then hefted three bags of cheetos and all of the Valvoline he could hook onto the fingers of his free hand. He earned the glares of the entire line when he slid into the group, right in front of Sam, and smirked. “I got more than you little bro, it’s only fair.”

Sam blinked at the back of Dean’s head. “Just in your universe.”

The bell over the door rang and all heads turned as a two petite blondes in cut-off shorts entered the mart. They took in the long line, decided to cut through rather than walk around and, since Dean looked so accommodating with his come-hither smile, parted the line right in front of him.

“Excuse me, sugar.” One of the platinum girls pressed right against Dean, pushing him back into Sam.

“That’s quite alright honey,” Dean drawled, while Sam squawked at the press of his brother’s ass against his crotch. It felt like a bolt of electricity went through Sam’s spine, dragging him up to his full height and somehow crowding him closer into Dean. Sam was more aware of his brother than he’d ever been in life and he was getting hard.

Now, Sam had been in Dean’s pocket for practically his entire life. He knew more about Dean than any woman and, certainly, man in the entire world. But knowing everything mainly constituted of all of the gross things like the distinct smell of Dean’s farts and that Dean made a hobby of leaving a collection of nose, ear, or pubic hairs in every motel they stayed in.

And, sure, Sam knew as well that Dean started everyday doing one hundred sit ups and ran for at least a mile, and when he came back to the room Dean would have sweat stains that stretched from his neck to his crotch and stuck his t-shirt to his flat stomach and sometimes outlined the shape of his cock (that was strangely always half hard before he took his morning shower).

And as Dean would wipe his sweaty face and head for the bathroom, Sam would always -always- be able to see how moisture gathered in the cleavage of his ass, the wet fabric of his shorts clinging to Dean's round globes and grabbing Sam’s attention until Dean slammed the bathroom door behind him.

Of course, Sam would be the last person on the planet to admit that he knew any of that.

But when faced, or rather backed, into a situation where Sam couldn’t ignore the flash of lust direct contact spurred, he did the only thing he could think of other than letting out an embarrassing groan and possibly coming in his pants.

Sam fumbled the beer, the cereal, and the iced tea and shouldered Dean so hard that his brother almost face planted into the three hundred pound man in front of him.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Both Sam and Dean chorused. Dean genuinely annoyed and Sam absolutely confident as to how Dean would react.

The quick chain of events looked as if Dean had knocked the items out of Sam’s arms, causing the people in line to glare even more at Dean but also gaining Sam some sympathy from one of the blond twins, who picked up a box of cereal.

“I love this brand, don’t you?” She said with a flirty smile not unlike the one she gave Dean a second earlier. Sam nodded shyly as he collected his parcels again, grimacing at the bent beer cans.

Dean recovered from his topple as if it hadn’t happened. “It’s important to stay healthy,” he said with a smarmy smile.

The second girl, silent until now, looked at the mess in Dean’s arms and scoffed, doing a signature “loser” hair toss as she gathered her twin and wandered down an aisle.

Dean gave Sam a glare that said that revenge was pending and Sam sighed in relief that his erection had been scared away.

So, it really had all been an accident, the first time.  
__

The second time was all Dean’s fault. Not that the first time hadn’t been as well.

In the mornings, Sam resolved not to open his eyes until Dean took his shower. Then, by the time Sam returned from his jog to the local coffee spot, Dean would be dressed and reading the paper. Sam would retreat into the bathroom, see the small hairs on the bathroom counter and not even be able to think about Dean’s ass until dinner time.

That was until a ghoul in South Dakota attempted to remove Dean’s spinal cord with her fingernails.

There was blood everywhere but, as usual, Dean didn’t want Sam to go to the hospital. Sam was worried; Dean was pale in the faint light of the moon through the Impala’s windshield, the darkness of the blood on his skin washing him out even more. When they finally arrived back to the Top Gun Motel, Dean could barely walk into the room and Sam had to cut away the rest of his brother’s t-shirt with his knife.

Four long ragged gashes ran diagonal through Dean’s skin, beginning around his midsection and ending at the hollow dip of his lower back. Sam knew immediately that Dean would scar and he prodded the wounds to check for the depth.

“You got lucky, Dean,” Sam hissed in sympathy. “But only just.”

Dean turned his sweaty face into the mattress. “Stitch me up and put me down, Sammy. Just don’t check out the goods too much while you’re back there.”

Sam left the room and was glad that Dean couldn’t see the split second of horror on his face at the careless words. When he returned the first aid kit, Dean had managed to push his ruined jeans down his hips. Sam could see where blood had soaked into black boxers briefs.

Dean flapped his legs. “Pull ‘em off, will ya?”

Sam froze. “What?”

“My jeans, dumb ass,” Dean squinted over his shoulder. “I can’t sit up and my ass feels all sticky.”

Sam swallowed. “I think the boxers are a lost cause too.” He focused on the wall as he pulled Dean’s pants off his legs.

“You wanna take off my underwear Sammy?” Dean teased in a low octave that sent shivers down Sam’s spine.

Sam’s own voice was a little shaky. “I’m going to cut them off, Dean. Don’t make me mad. ”

Sam retreated to the bathroom to take a deep breath and wonder what the hell was wrong with him. His cock was stirring, disturbing him more than he could fathom, and as Sam ran a washcloth under cold water he glared at his reflection in the mirror over the sink. Dean was still bleeding out on the bed, his back split open, and all Sam could think about was cutting the underwear off his body. He felt a little ill.

Dean’s eyes were closed, trying to manage the pain when Sam returned to the room. Sam knew that Dean wouldn’t ask for a painkiller until after he’d stitched him up, so he made quick work of Dean’s boxers, for both of their sakes, leaving the scraps where they were while he cleaned the wound.

Sam warned Dean when he was going to start stitching and the room fell silent, Sam’s complete attention on keeping them straight and keeping Dean still. The process felt like it took forever and by the time Sam was taping down the last bandages his hands were trembling, the adrenaline rush of the hunt waning.

Dean’s voice was shaking with fatigue, “If you’re done, give me that cloth. I need to wipe my ass.”

“You’re disgusting, Dean.” Sam sighed, tossing the bloody thing in his brother’s direction. He left to wash his hands and put the kit away, stripping his own clothes off as he went.

The last sight Sam expected to see when he came back was Dean stretched out face down on his bed completely naked on top of the covers.

“Dean,” Sam choked out, his cock suddenly so hard he thought his boxers might rip. “You should put some clothes on.”

“What for,” Dean asked over his shoulder. He’d moved up on the bed so that his head rested on the pillow. “They’d hurt. You got those pills yet?”

Sam swallowed and rushed back into the bathroom to get them. “Yeah, give me a sec.”

He gave the pills to Dean, hoping that his brother wouldn’t turn on his side and see the massive boner trying to bust its way through Sam’s boxers. Then, he went to turn off the light and dive under his covers. Sam could still see the silhouette of Dean in the next bed, the moonlight coming through the curtains and highlighting what Sam wished he could look away from.

Sam knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep unless he could close his eyes on the curve of Dean’s shoulders, the sharp dip of his narrow hips, and the rise of his pale ass that seemed to almost glow to tempt Sam further.

“Hey Sam.” Dean’s voice in the darkness startled him. Sam lifted his eyes and met Dean’s own across the gap of their bed. His brother seemed to look right into him and yank at Sam’s guilt over his forbidden desire.

“Cut pretty close this time, huh?”

“Yeah, Dean.” Sam whispered. “It was.” Fear for his brother packed on top of the fear Sam had of Dean figuring it all out and his throat closed up.

“Let’s hope that next time you won’t have to cut my underwear off.” Dean smirked and Sam felt himself growing harder. “You look a little flushed, Sammy. Must be all that,” Dean paused for emphasis. “Blood.”

Sam groaned and turned away from Dean’s lethargic chuckles. “That’s not funny, man.”

Sam could hear Dean rustle the sheets, probably drawing them over his body. “My ass it’s not funny.” Dean growled before he let out a loud snore.

Sam could only shake his head, thinking that it was Dean’s ass that was the problem.  
__

The third time was Sam’s fault, and he knew it, but he blamed Dean anyway.

“This is all your fault! Why can’t you just keep yourself to,” Sam paused to think. “To yourself?”

Dean gave him a look that asked when Sam had donated his brain to science. “I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. I wasn’t the one that ruined that interview, you were. Almost gave that old lady a heart attack with that thing in your pants.”

Sam blushed. That much was true; Sam popping wood in front of a seventy-year-old woman probably wasn’t his crowning achievement.

“Your hand was in my lap!” Sam shouted.

A woman walking by with a baby carriage gasped at them and Sam rushed to get in the Impala and off the suburban sidewalk, Dean snickering the whole way.

“You’d dropped that lady’s ring and I was just helping you pick it up.” Dean explained as he closed the car door.

Sam glared at him in disbelief.

Dean shrugged. “What?”

Sam turned to face him on the seat. “What’s with you Dean? All the nudity and accidental touching and little smirks when I’m…” He trailed off.

Dean leaned closer. “When you’re what Sammy?” His green eyes flicked down to Sam’s lap where he was still hard from the earlier ‘accidental’ groping. “Why can’t you just admit it?”

“Admit what?” Sam’s voice caught at the flash in Dean’s eyes.

“You want my ass, little brother. There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m smoking hot. You don’t have to be ashamed of,”

Sam growled, “Dean, shut the fuck up,” before he yanked on Dean’s lapel and kissed him.

Sam had known for months now that Dean was playing with him, dozens of little ‘accidents’ that were Dean’s attempts to be subtle. Sam had been clueless until he’d sat down one night, got rip roaring drunk, and got over it.

He wanted Dean. There was no one else but his brother in his life and the past, Stanford and Jess, were over. He could never reclaim that happiness again. But, Sam realized, that he could have something like it, even if it meant throwing all of society’s rules out the window.

Sam licked at Dean’s full lip and sucked it into his mouth, moaning at the taste, responding to Dean’s fingers clenching in his jacket.

Dean pulled away and grinned. “Took you long enough to catch on.”

“You’re so full of shit.” Sam breathed, drawing Dean back to his mouth. His hands wandered under the back of Dean’s leather jacket, finding and cupping his brother’s ass –that ass that had been driving him insane.

“You want it so bad, you pervert.” Dean moaned, climbing into Sam’s lap.

Sam chuckled, feeling something in his chest snap free. “It takes one to know one. Now shut up and let me jerk you off.” He bit at the thick tendon in Dean’s neck.

Sam would say later that the sound Dean made when he wrapped a hand around his cock was like a big horny cat whose back had been scratched. Dean’s entire body shuddered in Sam’s lap, who certainly wasn’t complaining about the pleasant pressure on his cock, and Dean was fully hard, coming in Sam’s big hands as if they’d been lovers for years.

Sam watched in awe as his brother lost control over him. Dean’s head was back, thrusting into Sam’s tight fist, and biting at his lips to keep silent. When he did come, Dean collapsed into Sam’s neck, biting his brother so hard that Sam came in his jeans.

They both sat there catching their breath and Sam cupped Dean’s face with his clean hand. “Dean, I want you to know that I-,”

“Don’t be such a girl Sammy.” Dean interrupted, lifting out of Sam’s lap and buttoning his jeans. “We should go before the neighbors call the cops.”

Dean started the car while Sam sat stunned. “Don’t you think we should talk about this?”

“Um,” Dean shrugged. “No, not really. You’re hot for me and I think you’re reasonably attractive…”

“Reasonably?"

Dean smiled and jerked the car away from the curb. “Sure, reasonably. I don’t fuck ugly people, Sammy. You should be flattered.”

Sam sat back and sighed, grimacing at the wetness in his pants. “You’re such a jerk, Dean.”

“Aww, you love it. Bitch.”

Watching Dean at the wheel, a smile crinkling the corners of his expressive eyes and his body more relaxed than Sam had seen for months, Sam shook his head and reached over to wipe his dirty hand on his brother’s jeans.

Dean made a face. “What the hell, Sam?”

Sam chuckled. “Don’t be such a girl, Dean.”

END


End file.
